


The Last Earth Mother

by loudmiracle



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 13:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudmiracle/pseuds/loudmiracle
Summary: This is the story of a revolution, and she will be the one to lead it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was made for my creative writing class. I hope to continue it sometime soon. So feel free to tell me if you are unterested in reading more.

Life. It's hard when you're still young, but things go on. Days and nights pass one at a time. Sometimes it can take long for one to pass, other times seem much shorter. But most pass slowly, it is painful how slow the days pass. One at a time. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Everything takes forever to pass. 

Music is the one thing that continues the timeline.

The notes flow around her as she sits. Like bees dancing around endless flowers. She sings. It helps her to heal. Heal the wounds that time cannot. It keeps the now nameless woman alive. Whether it is her singing or the men and women whose voices fill the empty space that surrounds her. She breathes in and out to match the tempo. The girl looks up into the quickly darkening sky. 

"I'm alone here," she hugs her knees, "I don't want to be alone. There must be something more. There has to be."

Miles of endless grass spread in all directions from where she is sitting. The sun sets as the world darkens. Nebulas, galaxies, and many, many stars begin to appear in the night sky. She closes her eyes.

"If only I could sprout wings and fly into the sky. Free from everything. I could just, fly up and be there next to you." 

She stands. Her dark hair flows and cascades around her shoulders and head in curls tighter than that of spools of ribbon. If there was anyone that could see her. In the words, thoughts, and minds of others she would be beautiful, radiant. As if she were the sun, a star, a woman of interstellar life that could control those with just one word.  
The life she leads is one of sorrows, hate, loneliness. She is the last one of her people. The last of the dark skinned, dark haired, and golden eyed. Her life is filled with the hate of the fair. The fair of skin, eyes, and hair, and in their hate, she sings the songs of her people. The songs that keep her alive. The words have greater meaning to that of the Ash, that of her, the last of the Ash. She carries the stories of people, from songs of hate for the Tempests, from songs of the the eruption of life.  
Her life began slowly in the burning anger and scorching hate for the Tempests, her place was of the Terra, of the rock she was sculpted from. From the ash of her fallen brother and sister, she was meant to defy, to revolt, to return Terra to the Ash.  
She was the finest of her people. The one that must bring peace to the Ashen. Her golden eyes and freckles are what made her the one. She was the one to be named from the Terra. She was to be powerful. She was the only one that is fitting of the name saved for generations for the savior of the Ashen.  
The ancient elders had spoken the story of her, of the last earth mother. The one that would be birthed alone to the surface, but she would rise to save them. She would find her power over earth. Over the endless green fields, over the towering trees that have stood for millions of years. The woman with gold in her eyes would rise to fight the sky, she would rise to fight the Tempests, the ones that have forced her people to the ground, and to death. 

Now, this is where the story of the earth mother begins. 

She awoke slowly, her golden eyes blinking the tiredness away, sits up and glances around to see grasses, flowers, and a handful of trees growing quickly around her. With a sigh, she stands. A few long blades of grass seemingly twist around her ankle to keep her there, to keep her asleep. She frowns and begins to walk east to the rising sun. The plant life grows and parts into a path as if they are alive in the same sense as her. A wake of life flows from her footsteps. It seems to form a path to a wall of mountains that sit not far from where she is. She follows the growing path for what feels to be hours.  
The golden eyed girl come to the cave, seeing it for the first time. She is taller than the mouth of the cave, but yet the opening and tunnels grow to fit her. She gently places her hand to the wall nearest to her. Once dark gray runes spark to life. They glow with a brilliant yellow the second her dark hand settles. It seems to flow inward, lighting her way deeper into the cave. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before stepping into the mouth of the cave. Her bare feet touch the dusty floor. Years of footprints cover the floor from the other ones before her. She can feel the bravery of those before her, it lives in the air that has been untouched for years. She keeps walking.  
After a few minutes of walking, the cave ends. The glowing runes have cut off so the back wall is not illuminated, but filled with shadow. Wonder fills her mind and she walks over to the back wall. Stones begin to crawl out from her footprints, she stops and looks back to think about all she has done to come this far. All of the times she had lost hope of finding anyone that was similar to herself. Anyone with dark hair, dark skin, and the unbridled hate for the Tempests. Anyone even remotely similar to her, anyone to help her to feel less lonely. Anyone at all.  
She turns forward to face to wall once again. She walks forward with a more than determined stride. The wall is just about touching the tip of her nose when she stops. Her golden eyes shut. With a ever so small lean, her forehead is against the dark, carved wall. She releases the breath she didn’t know she was holding, the wall ignites with a blinding white lights that fills every crack in the stone. The raised stone from her footprints sink back into the dirt floor. The blinding white shifts to a soft and inviting yellow. She opens her eyes, the now much dimmer yellow glow of the room looks as if it had filled her eyes. The gold and glowing yellow seem to make her eyes into suns. She looks up to the wall. She can see the carvings clearly now.  
They look like her.  
She recoils, but trips over her own feet. The young woman scoots away from the wall, she gets a better looks at the runes. They spell a four letter word, she doesn't know what though. She scans the room for anything else. There is nothing but this mural with a word she doesn't not yet understand and the carved in face of herself. She tries to focus, and when she does, it speaks to her.  
Elders and Earth Mothers of many years ago speak to her. Their words fill the air around her. They speak the words of old. The voices of the long dead tell her that she is the one that will bring peace to her people. To the people that have been long forgotten in the deep underground cities of the Ash.  
“Gaea”  
The voices echo in her ears. All of the voices seemingly ment into one. They swirl around her like the winds of grassy plains.

“You will be the one to free the Ashen. You are the last Earth Mother, and you must carry the name proudly. You have been chosen to lead our revolution, and you are more that able to.”


End file.
